


Anger Problems

by GetOutOFMyTreeNovice



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Kinda Cracky, M/M, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2013-09-25
Packaged: 2017-12-27 15:16:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GetOutOFMyTreeNovice/pseuds/GetOutOFMyTreeNovice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not his fault Altair acts like a allahdamned novice every time he gets his grubby hands on that apple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anger Problems

Sometimes, Malik just wanted to wrap his remaining hand around Altair's throat and squeeze for all he was worth until the Assassin fell dead at his feet. Sometimes, he just wanted to see how far he could twist Altair before the stupid novice showed some emotion. Sometimes, he just wanted bend Altair over his desk and beat him like a child until he made some sort of sound of pain.  
  
And then there were some times that Malik just wanted the idiot to go get lost in the desert and leave him alone for once in his stupid novice life. This was one such time. Altair was lounging on the pillows in the back room of Malik's bureau, playing with his throwing knives. He had already argued with the Dai just enough to piss him off before yawning and laying down on the pillows, staring up at Malik with a bored expression on his stupid novice face.  
  
Malik had stomped back to his desk, his face red and tight, hand curled into a fist, wondering why he hadn't punched Altair yet. The Dai growled at the half-finished map in front of him, withstanding the powerful urge to take his quill and scribble all over the papyrus to take out his anger instead of out on the relaxing Altair in the other room.  
  
“Malik, could you wrap this before I bleed out all over your bed?” Altair called out. Malik ground his teeth and hissed, standing up and snatching his medical supplies off the shelf behind him. The Dai's rage seemed to peak when he saw the assassin laying there with a bloody arm, looking up at him dully. His lip curled when he realized the wound was on the same arm Malik had lost not two months earlier.  
  
What was left of his arm throbbed as he knelt down to clean Altair's, being very careful to avoid the searching amber eyes of the other. “Was it necessary to come in bearing insults and wearing that damned hood like I've asked you not to when you're wounded badly enough that I could let you die like the stupid novice you deserve to be?” Malik seethed, not being gentle as he cleaned the cut and wrapped it, wanting to make the assassin wince. But, alas, he didn't. He remained perfectly still like a Master assassin should, his face expressionless.  
  
“Was it necessary,” Altair started slowly, “to immediately have a glare on your face and your tongue sharpened every time I came in?” Malik's rage flared at the slow, careless words and he snapped, his hand whipping up to wrap itself around Altair's throat, everything red.  
  
“I wouldn't if you weren’t an arrogant novice and weren't the cause of my brother's death and the loss of my arm!” he snarled, squeezing the neck before him with all of his strength. Altair clamped his hands around Malik's remaining arm and growled, thrashing and gasping as he tried to pull the Dai off of him.  
  
Altair gasped as he finally got air to his burning lungs, panting and glaring at Malik, who glared back, his dark eyes burning like hot coals through him. “I should have you killed for that.” Altair snarled, his fingers twitching, the killer in him begging to trigger his hidden blade. Malik sneered.  
  
“Get out of my Bureau. Go find someone else's feathers to bloody. I'm done with you.” He stood and brushed his Dai's coat off, storming back to his desk and ignoring Altair. The assassin was quick, getting to him before he reached the desk and slamming him against the wall, his hidden blade pressed against the Dai's throat. Malik snarled and tried to kick, careful not to move his upper body too much. “Get off!”  
  
“No.” Altair stared Malik down, a strangely devious plot sinking into his mind. The Master Assassin smirked. With his free hand, Altair started tugging off Malik's robes, to the other's outrage.  
  
“What in Allah's name are you doing?!” Malik thrashed and punched at Altair, fighting hard as the other pinned him with his larger body, successfully removing all but the Dai's pants and boots.  
  
“Teaching you a lesson.” Altair kept his voice low, untying his own pants to free his half-hard cock. Malik's gaze turned cold.  
  
“No. I am not fucking sucking you-mff!” Altair had shoved Malik to his knees, twisting his lone arm painfully, sneering down at the smaller man.  
  
“You will. Or I'll break your only arm left. That would be inconvenient for you, wouldn't it?”Altair just raised an eyebrow at Malik, who had let his jaw drop at the cruel insinuation.  
  
“You wouldn't.” Altair twisted the arm and Malik fought not to scream at the pain.  
  
“I would. Now be a good boy and suck.” he released pressure on Malik's arm slightly and the Dai gave him a cold glare before accepting Altair's waiting length. Altair purred and stroked Malik's hair. “Good boy...” The smaller man just growled and sucked on the large cock in his mouth, trying not to choke when Altair pushed his hips forward and the head touched the back of his throat. A light pull of Malik's short hair told him Altair was enjoying this far too much, but he didn't want to lose use of his remaining arm, so he used his tongue to tease the bigger man, staring straight at the light hairs coming down Altair's belly.  
  
“Mmm... you are just as good as I thought you would be...” the assassin groaned, rocking his hips forward. Malik let himself bob up his cock, relaxing his throat. He sucked and laved at the length, grazing his teeth along the red flesh when he felt like letting Altair know who was in control here. It wasn't until Malik swallowed around Altair's dick when Altair finally let out a moan loud enough to travel straight to Malik's pants, slightly tenting them as his own cock stirred to life.  
  
Malik ignored it, sliding up Altair's cock to suck hard on the head, subconsciously trying for that beautiful sound he had earned earlier. Altair didn't disappoint. Hips bucked forward and he moaned, tilting his head back and pulling on Malik's hair. “Ohh I'm gunna...” Malik bit down gently, pushing the tip of his tongue into Altair's slit, just to be rewarded with a hot spurt of seed coating his mouth and throat as the assassin bucks and moans. Malik withdrew, spitting and coughing, his arm finally released as Altair slumps to the floor.  
  
Dark eyes glared at amber, scowl meets lazy grin; Malik drew back his arm to punch Altair, who didn't have the energy to dodge it as it connected with his face.  
  
“Stupid novice.” Malik snarled as he walked away, ignoring his hard-on that he now had to take care of, wanting to take one last look at the dopey smile on Altair's face, but not wanting to risk the Assassin believing that he actually gave a shit about him.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the only altmal fic that I've actually finished, but there should be more eventually. Hope you liked it and stuff <3


End file.
